May Find the Light Within

If you were wondering, as Joohyun and I were having the absolute time of our lives, my idiotic chicken hat never fell off. I was expecting it to—inwardly pleading for it to—just so I’d never see it again, but nope, it was basically attached to my scalp. Must’ve been the tightly fastened knot that wouldn’t let it. You’d think that a high-speed coaster would create enough clashing wind to at least fling the damn thing in the air, but it never even budged.

Of course, if it did fly off, I’d hope that it wouldn’t lead us to our doom, tragically causing us to derail off the tracks.

That’d be…

Horribly unfortunate.

Then again, whenever the entanglement did appear faulty, usually after two to three rides or so, Joohyun would go ahead and retie it for me—no questions asked.

Oh, and I hadn’t noticed it upon entering Mystic Land—probably because the shopping and gaming centers shrouded everything else from view—but this place has an impressive number of coasters and other grand attractions. And, yes, I know, it’s an amusement park, so those aspects should be a given, but it just caught me by surprise, is all.

Maybe, it’s because I hadn’t stepped foot inside one for years.

And, because of that, I was unsure how I’d fare with dangerously quick loops, jolts, and whirls. Grateful that neither Joohyun and I were victims of motion-sickness, we rode the fastest and tallest rides first.

(Prior to doing so, we made a promise that whichever one we’d pass, it’s our duty to hop on it, even if it wasn’t our fondest cup-of-tea.)

We weren’t chickens about it either, despite there being a stuffed version of one sitting on my head.

Plus, we equally craved the thrill.

As per usual, the lines were vigorously lengthy, but our random starts to conversations made standing around for hours almost seem bearable. It’s not like I ever doubted my best friend’s conversational skills, but tonight shows that we could talk about anything and everything, yet that boredom would never sink in.

After riding our seventh rollercoaster of the night, and hopefully not our last, Joohyun and I decided to take a short break from all the enjoyment and give our vocal cords some time to recuperate. It was on her accord, as she started demanding funnel cakes out of nowhere, pouting her way down the path in desperate search of a nearby vender.

It was a random craving—must be a Joohyun thing.

Her visible pout formed into a delightful smile once she finally found a stand that sold funnel cakes. It was a bit of a journey, but I’m glad she didn’t turn feral in the meantime. To exude some natural kindness, I offered to pay for it, but she smacked my hand away and continued to pay for it herself.

Of course, I obliged, because I’m not trying to argue with someone as adamant as her.

We waited for a few minutes, before the starry-eyed staff provided Joohyun with a large quantity of funnel cake that was almost too threatening to look at. It was undoubtedly more than enough for one person, and she’d be insane not to share any.

But now that I stare at it in awe, dissecting every little detail, I’m not sure if I’d like to be the second contender to help her out.

It looks like it’d eat me, instead.

Not to be annoyingly picky or judgmental, but let’s be real; a dough-like monstrosity covered with a bunch of powdered sugar is a little too far from my range of interests.

I’m not too keen on sweets, or whatever the that is, as I tend to fancy salty snacks more, but this?

If I were to word it properly, it looked sickening, and even as I used those exact words to explain why I declined her generous offer of sharing, she proceeded to add,

“Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it.”

Indeed, this is one of many grand examples why that saying is so famous to begin with, because once I tried it, it’s like it enveloped my entire being, and it’s clear that it’ll never let me go.

With a snap of someone’s fingers, the ultimate consequence is dealing with a funnel cake addiction.

“Why did you introduce me to this?” It tastes like absolute heaven on planet earth, but if I overdo it, it’s not going to end well for me. As we all know, addictions have negative connotations.

“Because, it’s too good to miss out on,” says Joohyun, eyelids closed in tranquility, and a permanent satisfied smile on her face.

Despite the fact there’s a good percentage of me that’s combatting the idea of being grateful for this wonderful treat, she’s not wrong.

Imagine living a continuous, tiring life and not trying funnel cakes at least once.

Yeah, let that sink in.

“When’s the light show starting?” I muffle through a mouthful of funnel cake.

“Any time now.”

While we’re too busy scarfing this cake down, Joohyun proposed that we’d find something—anything—to do in the meantime. It seemed she didn’t want any second to go to waste, in which I hadn’t begged to differ.

Not a second later, she mentioned something about a light show that’s shown across a vast waterfront. She was giving it tons of praise along the way, so that built up high hopes and expectations.

Supposedly, it’s a popular presentation around here, rounding up a lot of the guests to lounge about and observe it from afar. According to her, there’s a perfect view of it from an overhead bridge.

And, as of right now, that’s where we’re stationed—albeit, uncomfortably.

The number of people that crowded the bridge was triggering my claustrophobia, so we found a more decent spot towards the left-side. It wasn’t too bad; we still had a great view, and it wasn’t as suffocating to be near the others. Regardless, I still focused on settling my nerves to reach a comfortable state of equilibrium. 

Joohyun said that despite the loads of attention it grabs, a lot of people like to pass by, take a quick look for a few seconds, then head straight for the rides, so I was holding onto that idea. It’s apparent that the lines flow better during this time, too.

“Is this area okay with you?” Joohyun asks, taking my claustrophobic tendencies into consideration. Her fingertips barely skim across my arm as she remains attentive to my answer.

I open my mouth to reply, but it seemed like an intrusion caused her focus to be thrown elsewhere.

Nearly getting elbowed by the random dude standing next to her, she reflexively stabbed him with a fierce glare. I coughed out an amused laugh as the guy received it, looked away with a speed-like urgency, and ultimately took a few slow steps away from her. Smart move on his part.

Honestly, who wouldn’t cower away in fright? She’s scary when she wants to be.

I also hadn’t minded that throughout that silent interaction, Joohyun drew closer to me.

“Yeah, it’s fine here,” I lean farther over the rail, feeling the comfortable breezes hit my face. It was the perfect remedy. “Thanks for the funnel cake, by the way. It was better than I expected.”

That much of an appreciation was necessary.

I tried to pace myself, but I embarrassingly inhaled my piece quicker than ever. That’s what happens when something is that good. Mindful Joohyun was still tearing her half apart, piece-by-piece, while steadily taking her time with it. Apart of me wishes I did the same. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve ogled at her share, before mindlessly watching as she tore a sliver off, and threw it into .

“You look like you want more,” and, of course, she noticed that I was hungrily eyeing her funnel cake like a freak. “Do you want another piece of mine?”

“No, it’s okay.” Her arm grazes against mine, and my gaze lowers, but I quickly avert it towards the water, again. It seems the proximity continues to close in as the size of the audience becomes overwhelming. I was driven enough not to mind because the wind was rather accommodating, as it refrained myself from mentally fizzling out of control. And well, she was beside me, so that helped. “Go ahead and enjoy. Don’t mind me.”

“You sure?”

Nodding, I hum in assurance. I sensed that she was hesitant at first, but it eventually silenced her.

Disliking the prolonged quiet nature, I felt curious:

“So, when was the last time you saw this show? Is it really as amazing as you say?”

“Oh, you’ll love it,” Joohyun, then, purses her lips in thought. “Though, I believe it was last year during winter break. That must’ve been the last time I saw it.”

Just a year—not too long ago.

“You came with your parents?”

She shakes her head slowly—it was the type of slow and gradual that comes with slight disappointment, hidden deep within the seams.

I regret asking.

“Just my mom, since my dad’s not usually around.” Instead of at me, her attention was glued towards what was left of her funnel cake.

I didn’t question why she avoided eye-contact.

In a way, I already knew why.

In the past, she has told me a few times that her father was always away on business. She occasionally brings it up, then shuts the topic down, in which I always understood and respected. It wasn’t any of my business. The most she’d mention was that she’d miss him sometimes, whenever the reminder of his absence would flit back to her, but overtime, she got used to his presence being elsewhere.

Knowing her, I took the initiative to veer this topic into a safer direction.

“So, if the last time you saw it was during Christmas, then the show’s concept must be different this time around, right?” At that, her head raises to look up at me, which assures that shifting the subject in an alternate direction was a great idea. “It’d make sense for the themes to vary upon seasons.”

“Yeah, it does,” she smiles, reminiscing, which I admire. “For the seasons and their themes, the organizers or creators of these shows makes sure to change it up every year. That obviously means we never see the same one more than once. For example, last year’s for Halloween, it was skeletons and pumpkins, so I wonder what it’ll be this year.”

“Any guesses?” I place an elbow on the concrete rail and rest my chin in my palm.

“Hm,” she considers, “witches and black cats, maybe?”

“Or, how about the slasher-movie villains?” Don’t say it. It’s not a weird obsession. It’s just Halloween, and I’m in the spirit of things.

She laughs a little, then shakes her head.

“Sorry to break it to you, but that was the theme for the year before.”

I frown in dismay, and say:

“Well, I’ll remain optimistic about the possibilities. Besides, how many more themes can they use before they start running out? They’ll have to start recycling them at some point.”

“Eventually, but not anytime soon,” she further informs, “this show only became a thing two years ago.”

I nod into the palm of my hand.

In secret, I side-eye her, studying the way she placidly observes the moonlit view with a critical stare—one that showed she was deep in thought. Her hair frolics in the little gusts of wind that’s provided to us, slipping carefully through every strand, and fluttering the hem of her attire. That plastic crown of hers is somehow sitting beautifully atop of her head, and even so, the moonlight’s reflective sheen creates this far-off illusion that she could make a great princess, if this was an alternate universe. Then, I remember; that’s a superheroes crown, and perhaps, she had embodied one with today’s High Striker win. Just at the mere thought and moment’s convenience, I feel like smiling.

What baffles me is how perfect her hair looks after riding so many rollercoasters. And, that was the focal point of my thoughts, until she spoke again,

“I doubt it could be more beautiful than the ones during Christmas, though. There’s just something about the time of year that enhances the experience,” she turns to me. “Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so,” I knew exactly what she meant. “Are you referring to the joyful spirit of things that come with the holiday itself? The wonderful feeling it induces and spreads to those that celebrate it?”

There is something extremely beautiful about Christmas, as well as the holidays surrounding it, in general. It’s refreshing and rejuvenating, almost. Like, there’s not a single time of year that compares to the way it raises everyone’s mood and brightens the atmosphere to an obscene level.

It’s just from experience, at least. The best times of my life, from what I can remember, were during Christmas, and no, the reason hadn’t lied in all the gifts that I received.

“As you beautifully put it—yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” After picking up and swallowing down the last piece of her cake, she looks at me, but it was different this time; the look she gave. Is that adoration, I see? Or, am I mistaking that glimmer for admiration? “I believe this one’s going to give you a different feeling—one that’ll still be pretty, but also, much more than that. It’s going to be…”

I throw in my two cents: “Insanely ing awesome?”

“Yeah, that.” She laughs brightly. “I doubt anything can scare you, but there’ll be a side-effect of spookiness, too.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Before she could reply, the light show began, almost as if it was cued into the scene.

And, even as it did start with a bang, then end with a magical flourish, I held my breath and hadn’t batted an eye the entire time. I’m serious; I didn’t dare to break this moment of endless captivation. There was no room for missing a cascade of color, a rhythmical spewing of water, the heart-stopping cinematics, or the chilling background music that played on with climactic rumbles and high-pitched springs.

It was a silent experience, like I was spellbound. Because, with a presentation so beautiful, so insane, and so freakishly top-notch, there was no way I could outwardly show my excitement and awe. It’s like there was a constant party being thrown internally, and every sliver of the thoughts that I could muster was moving at top-speed, unable to be focused on and expressed.

Joohyun’s positive appraisals filled me with high expectations, but this surpassed my predictions. It was so much more than a light show with flashy fountain tricks—there was an entire water projection, too! It showed short moments of various horror classics to commemorate each one.

As it all settled down, I couldn’t stop buzzing about it, even as I sneaked a quick glance at Joohyun to capture her reaction. Like me, her wide eyes wouldn’t budge from the wondrous display that just took place, lips slightly parted and eyebrows risen to resonate her aftershock.

Are there even enough words in my brain to perfectly depict what I just saw?

It was…

“Amazing,” I say through a breath, as the audience continues to rave about the mini show around us.

They begin to scatter and flee the area, but we stay in place for a little longer, letting the aftereffect linger.

Stunned, she finds her voice:

“You can say that, again.”

I was still frazzled, but the basis of my wonder lied in, “did you know about the water projection?”

“No, that was a new feature.” She remains speechless. It temporarily wiped away our thoughts and obstructed the process of retaining new ones. It’s like I had too much to say, and all the right words would get lost on me. “That display made last year’s show look mediocre.”

“They must’ve upped their game, then.”

“Astronomically,” she says. “Don’t get me wrong, last year’s presentation was memorably cute and pretty, but this was…”

I finished her sentence, “on another ing level.”

She nods, biting her lip, before adding:

“I wonder…” she trails off, scatter-brained. “Would they be able to even top that? For next year?”

“I bet they’ll find a way,” I laugh out the joy that continues to expand within me, unable to be held in any longer. That’s what happens when you’re inwardly exploding with happiness, and it’s all thanks to her. As soon as she prompted about the future, that caused me to think, too. I turn my body to face her, leaning against the railing. “Want to find out if they do? Next year? You’ll accompany me to watch it, won’t you?”

It must’ve for anyone that decided to miss this.

It’s a one-time experience for the night, after all.

She tips her head to the side, questions and uncertainties detectable within her eyes.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t?”

“It’s not that.” It was merely for reassurance. “I’m just making sure that you’ll be there.”

“It’s a promise,” she smiles momentarily, but it vanishes in a blink of an eye. “But, are you sure you’ll be there?”

Thrown off, my eyebrows furrow, sorely perplexed. That confusion soon morphs into curiosity, so for a moment, I try to comprehend the meaning behind that question.

I fail, so I ask:

“What do you mean by that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I don’t think I follow.”

“I see,” she appears hesitant, and whenever she does, she tends to recoil from the subject at hand, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Bull,” I laugh, not out of humor, but because I know her all-too-well. “You can tell me.”

That is, if she chooses to.

Sometimes, Joohyun can be a mysterious person. She may not come off as that, but the things that she utters can be so befuddling for the human mind, especially my own. Her underlying messages tend to be too far gone for my short-circuited way of thinking. It’s like she searches for answers, but in an undercover-like fashion, and if you don’t understand what she’s throwing at you, then she’ll let the topic flutter off into the present wind—never to be touched upon, again.

Even now, that same quizzical look in her eyes caught my attention, alerting me of that subtle yet recognizable mystification that’s clouded in her irises. She may not think I notice, but it’s reminiscent of all the times that she would ask me questions warily, as if she didn’t want to cross a certain line. She’s begging that I’d catch onto her puzzling insinuations, but I couldn’t pinpoint it, nor tug some sort of continuation out of her. If only I could read her mind.

Instead of an answer, all that took over was a silence so irritatingly deafening that I was itching to break it myself, if it wasn’t for something else doing the work for me.

However, it was in the form of a distraction—a very distinct distraction that led us astray from our previous conversation.

In this case, she’s lucky that our phones simultaneously notified us of a message from the group chat.

“Jimin said to meet at Laguna’s Diner in fifteen,” Joohyun relayed the message aloud, as I hadn’t bothered to fish for my phone to check. “He apparently has something ‘awesome’ to go over with everyone.”

“Awesome, he says,” I snort at her use of finger-quotes, like even she didn’t quite believe it. “Expect it to be the opposite, then.”

She conveys a second thought: “Well, if we’re meeting up as a group to talk it over, I’m sure it’s somewhat important, and not at all meaningless,” and, with the way she worded it, I’m already halfway convinced. “He’s with Chaeyoung, remember? What if they’ve found something cool to do as a group?”

There is a sense of intrigue, so perhaps, she has a point or two.

“I guess so,” I mutter, as we proceed towards the mentioned location, and that meant following Joohyun’s lead. Knowing that she has a mental map of the park memorized, I didn’t bother pulling out the physical handheld one to aid us on our travels. “Let’s just hope that whatever it is, it isn’t Jimin’s idea.”

“Hey.” She tugs on my sleeve to further grab my attention (as if, her voice wasn’t enough) and succeeds. I stop in my tracks and look over at her. “Why do you act like that?”

I hum inquisitively, “act like, what, exactly?”

She stifles a laugh by pursing her lips. “Like, you’re always agitated by your own cousin.”

“I’m not,” I foresaw that someone would ask that question sooner or later. I just never knew when, nor who would do the honors. “Honest.”  

“So, does that mean…” she starts out slowly, walking alongside me. “On the outside, you act like you’re sick of him, when, in fact, you secretly enjoy his company?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, it’s not an act—he’s still incredibly annoying.” At that, she throws her head back and laughs. “How about this, I get accustomed to his irritability with every day that passes. Is that better?”

“I think so,” or, so she says, but deep down, she doesn’t get it at all. “Your relationship with Jimin is somewhat different, and it’s almost like you enjoy making a fool out of him. Sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re playing it up for the others to laugh over, or if you just genuinely dislike him.”

Well, she’s not wrong about me finding enjoyment in making Jimin look like a fool. On days that are filled with boredom and nothing important to do, it’s a source of entertainment for me. Plus, it’s a great clap-back for all the times he’s said and presumed the most ridiculous things.

He kind of sets himself up, too, so it’s not entirely my fault.

“I can’t say that I dislike him because that’d be a lie.” I my lips out of habit, releasing a chuckle or two. “Jokes aside, if I were to be honest with you, he’s alright for the most part. He’s just very, for the lack of a better word, dense.”

“Well, aren’t you, as well?”

For theatrics, my jaw drops at the utmost profound insult Joohyun has ever thrown at me. It was like a shot to the heart of my ego, and to resonate that feeling, I clutch a hand over my chest in offense. She reacts with a fit of laughter.

“Are you comparing me to the likes of him?” Oh, she couldn’t have been!

“You’d be surprised to find out how similar you two are.”

“Please, stop talking. I don’t want to hear it.” As she cackles for the fortieth time, I cover my ears because it pains me to hear anymore slanderous words leave .

“Is it so crazy to believe that you do act like him?” Nope, not listening. “You two are cousins!”

“I’m walking away from this conversation, now.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Watch me.”

And, I did, but not before she laughed on, and it broke my emotionless façade to pieces.

Before any of the guys got the chance to use me as a source of ridicule, I retired the chicken hat by sneaking up behind Jimin’s seat and placing it on his head. After he received a couple of pointed fingers and some loud cackles, he snatched the thing off and threw it to the side. Not before glaring unthreateningly at me, of course.

That was a fond moment to remember—one for the books.

If it isn’t obvious enough, we’re at Laguna’s Diner, promptly seated at a table because a booth was too small of a capacity. As always, I stayed in my own little corner, smudged in between a wall and Joohyun, who still didn’t bother to leave my side, even in the presence of the group. I didn’t mind because our partnership is engraved, and by contract, it’s to never be broken.

In terms of social participation, I haven’t said a word besides the occasional responses that I give to Joohyun and a distanced Bogum. In my defense, I tried to say something—anything—but it was difficult to focus on a topic and answer, solely because there was a multitude of conversations swirling around the table.

There were several instances in which Joohyun would notice my silence and interact with me.

Bogum was across the table, sitting beside Sooyoung, so the distance made it difficult to converse with him.

Currently, everyone was chowing down on something, but to be frank, Joohyun and I couldn’t eat a thing since we were stuffed from that goddamn funnel cake. Just at the mere reminder of its absence breaks my heart, knowing that I’ll never be able to enjoy that treat ever again. Yeah, I can venture off and buy it at this very moment, but to quit my latest addiction, I must grab onto the reins of resistance, take control of my own path, and never veer off it. Forms of temptations like Jin (who is tearing off pieces of a funnel cake at this very moment) will not get the best of me.

Remember, to overcome a food addiction, you must be headstrong!

For the most part, I was succeeding.

Right now, my ultimate distraction (and, source of wonderful entertainment) was listening to everyone’s form of catch-up on their recent endeavors—or, should I be more specific and say dates, instead?

Because of their unbreakable tendencies to be too chicken or too stupidly flustered to declare it as one—a romantic-filled date, at that—Joohyun and I have done the honors and discretely labeled it as that ourselves. We share the most amused giggles and snorts because of how fun it is to observe everyone act like they’re not completely head-over-heels for a certain person yet behind closed doors, they so are.

Not to make fun of their inability to speak their feelings, or how they ride the train of timidity for all the seasons in a year, but it’s true; they’re undoubtedly pathetic. Seriously, it seems like the whole group is either simultaneously crushing, dating each other, or almost dating each other, which left us—me and Joohyun—to be excluded as the only friends. That is, besides a detectable love triangle going on, too. Everyone’s so hush-hush about their wishful relationships, so grasping onto some sort of clue is hard.

Before I could dive into any more of my thoughts of the night, while everyone was quietly occupied with their plates, the unexpected ceremoniously happens.

In front of us, a smirking Chaeyoung turns to Joohyun and I, asking:

“You two are awfully quiet. What did you guys do together?” That teasing glint in her eyes is not a good sign. Nope, not at all. God, did she have to ask while everyone had nothing else to pay attention to? “Anything fun?”

“Good question,” Yeri, who sits to the left of Chaeyoung, smiles devilishly, and it seems to frighteningly grow with every syllable. “I want to know every little detail.”

“Me, too!” Seulgi chimed in.

Then, it was like clockwork; synchronized statements and hums of agreement spread like wildfire around the table, as they all leaned forward in their seats. It was either to listen better or to signify their enhanced interest on the subject, and well, at this point, maybe it was both. It seems the intrigue has been hyped up to another level with little-to-no effort by Chaeyoung and Yeri.

As I dislike being the center of attention for anything, I lean back a little in my seat, only hoping that I’d get blasted off into another dimension by an unforeseeable force. Sparing a quick side glance, I find an unbothered Joohyun, whom simply quirked a brow at our friends’ intrusive queries.

Did our recent adventures have to be announced to the world? It’s not like anything special—correction: romantic—happened!

“We didn’t do much,” Joohyun, soon, replies in nonchalance. She turns to me and shoots me a distinct look of knowing that I recall all-too-well. “Right?”

Within that look of hers, she’s insinuating towards a running joke that’s kept between us and Bogum—one that we marvelously conjured up not too long ago because of the way our friends tend to tease us about things that don’t make sense. Yes, I’m talking about how they think we’re secretly in love with each other, despite the great friendship that we clearly have.

“Right,” I say, mustering up a small, discrete smirk that isn’t so discrete at all (that’s on purpose).

Now, we offer them silence.

Vagueness enhances curiosity and suspicions.

Someone must’ve caught on, for as much as they evaluate us.

“What was that?” Jungkook asks, shifting his pointer finger between Joohyun and I. He’s referring to the peculiar glances that we just purposely exchanged. At least, someone noticed. He turns to Yeri, Yoongi, and the others. “Did you guys see that, too?”

Everyone either shrugged or nodded unsurely in response. Neither me or Joohyun were aware that Jungkook cared that much to notice such a thing, but it seems that he did.

I blink. “What was, what?”

“You guys shared a weird look—I saw it.” The latter responds, and caused everyone else to shift in their seat, befuddled by the recent occurrence. “You two have to be hiding something.”

“I think, I saw it, too,” Jimin declares, and at that, I roll my eyes because he did not see a damn thing. I sense that he’s meticulously scheming and inwardly hooraying about how this situation aligns well with his odd suspicions about me and Joohyun (but, in this case, he’s still wrong). “They must be sending signals. You know how they are. They’re secretive.”

Like, hell, we are.

(Well, this little humor-induced scheme was constructed in secret, but I can assure you that we are not hiding anything too extreme from them!).

Jimin’s words enacted the rest of the group to simultaneously agree like a bunch of robots, except for Bogum, who was so silent and confused that it was hysterical. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember the time that we spoke about this, hence the thrown-off reaction. I’m sure Joohyun spotted his baffled expression, too. I could laugh, but that’d only ruin this façade that we’ve sprung upon the fellow victims of our preplanned act.

My question is, why are they so hyperactively aware of what we do?

We can sit in silence, and they’d still believe there was something going on between us.

Gotta’ say, it’s very, very fun to see them attempt to connect dots that don’t need connecting.

It seems they’re clouded by delusions. They need help.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” Joohyun answers, acting lost. “We’re not hiding anything.”

“We know that you didn’t spend the night doing absolutely nothing,” Seungwan pointed out the obvious, squinting critically at us. “So, if you’re not hiding anything, mind telling us about it without all the obscurities?”

“Yeah, why not?” Namjoon’s just playing along for s and giggles. He’s not interested at all.

“Fine.” Joohyun feigns a disgruntled sigh. “If you really want to know, we just hung around the booths for a while, rode some rollercoasters, then watched the light show. That’s it.”

Sounds about right. They’ll find a way to twist things.

“Really?” A few of the girls chorused, disappointed that that was all it was. I never noticed before, but our friends are really rooting for us to be together. Well, at least, the girls do. I don’t think the guys are like that, though. Hopefully.

Dahyun continues to pester us with a, “that’s it?”

“Yup,” I answer plainly. “Just a friendly outing.”

Just like that, the hyped-up atmosphere deflated into nothingness.

Though, that pocket of tranquility didn’t last long.

In no time, they cohesively chattered on, but I ignored any bothersome questions about whatever suspicions they may have. With some doubt still coursing through the air, a change of topic gratefully invited itself.

While they were distracted, Joohyun and I shared some laughs and a roll of the eyes at their ridiculousness. Of course, we passed on an informative reminder to a blanched Bogum, who let out that long-awaited breath he was holding in.

Given in his outward reaction, he had totally forgotten about our conversation weeks ago—the one in which Joohyun and I swore to ruffle up their intrigue if a relationship-type question (or, an insinuative one) was ever asked, again.

It was quality entertainment, really. It’s thrilling to mess with them. It was predictable that they all found Joohyun and I’s vagueness to be a brow-lifter, as they were expecting a much more normal reaction, like immediate defensiveness or automatic flustering. You know, something they’d do if any of us were to interrogate them about whether they liked each other or not.

They’re lucky their overbearing inquisitiveness and their endless mission to tease us doesn’t make anything awkward between Joohyun and I.

And, like I expected, this little tactic that we just pulled shows that none of our friends will ever believe that we’re capable of being best friends without any strings attached. I don’t understand why it’s the focal point of their interests in the first place. What they should be worried about is their own love-lives and whether they can confidently confess without having a breakdown.

Geez, if I were to possess them for a day, I’d come out and say it. Imagine how debilitating it is to like someone for so long and proceed to keep it inside until time’s too gone to retrieve.

Guess, it’s easy for me to say since relationships are the last thing on my mind, and well, I couldn’t properly love a girl, anyways. I’m just not built for it—mentally. Of course, I can’t say that I’ve ever been in love, nor know what happens when you’re stuck in its entanglement, but even if I somehow was, it’s not like I could do anything about it.

I would retain the feelings until it perished because I’d only put the person through hell in the end.

When I tell you that I’m not built for it at this stage of my life, I mean it. I haven’t found the answer to true, eternal happiness. Once all my doubts and my negativities fade away, it’s one step closer to grasping onto it. Then, I can finally control my own emotions, my own strive, and furthermore, be okay.

But I still have underlying issues to sort out.

I’m happy, but can I maintain that happiness without someone by my side?

Maybe, when I reach that pedestal, I’ll rethink my perspective on relationships.

Awhile passes, before Bogum clears his throat, causing everyone to look over at him.

“So, why’d you lure us here, Jimin?”

That’s a good way to put it. We’ve been here for a decent amount of time, chatting up a goddamn storm yet Jimin refuses to cough up the ‘awesome’ news that he’s gathered.

“Oh!” He rummages through his pockets, pulls out multiple raffle tickets (at least, that’s what it looked like), and set them upon the table for us to view. I squinted at the piece of paper, but I couldn’t read a thing. “See these?”

“Obviously,” I respond blankly, earning an elbow-bump from Joohyun.

Well, he should get to the point.

He sighs, the slips as an indication. “These are time-stamps. They’re for the evening event that we’re all going to be participating in.”

“What do you mean, ‘all’?” Jin asks, scrunching his brows, almost as if he was not into whichever ‘evening event’ that Jimin cooked up behind our backs. “And, why do you speak as if we don’t have a choice?”

“Because, none of you don’t,” Chaeyoung’s mischievous smile creeps me out.

Yoongi sighs drastically, then whines, but with good reason. “What did you sign us up for this time?”

“Oh, you know, just the good ole hedge maze,” Jimin winks, and as soon as that was uttered, everyone either drew an exhausted breath, threw their hands in the air, or simply groaned in disinterest. This must be a thing that he does often—force all his friends to do random group activities, simply to ruin their Halloween fun at Mystic Land. Or, maybe, he figured a hedge maze would be a wonderful way for the group’s social bond to increase.

Given the unenthusiastic responses that coursed throughout the table, this ‘awesome’ news was nothing but a bummer, seeing as they’d rather resume their date nights than go through something as stupid as a creepy hedge maze.

“If you’ve already forgotten what happened last year, we all decided that we’d never give that another try,” Bogum bluntly pointed out to Jimin, who is not listening whatsoever. “Remember?”

“I do,” Jimin replies. “But I figured now that Taehyung’s here, and is deserving of the entire Fright Night’s experience, why not give it a final go?”

In fact, I had no prior knowledge that one even existed here, so I don’t think it’d matter whether all of us participated or not. Plus, hedge mazes are extremely frightening, and can be dangerous to someone’s sanity.

“Ah, I don’t know,” Dahyun says, clearly uninterested in the plan. “Whenever I’m thrown in there, I freak out.”

It can cause panic.

“That’s the point.”

“I’m with Bogum and Dahyun on this one,” Joohyun uneasily adds, shifting in her seat. “Those mazes are constructed to be pretty much impossible to get through, and frankly, the prizes aren’t that tempting.”

While the others nod or hum in agreement, Namjoon steps in:

“And, even if we were to try again, I don’t think any of us are smart enough to escape in under ten minutes.”

Did he just insult us?

(It’s also come to my attention that they know every detail about this ‘hedge maze’ activity, and I’m the only one that doesn’t).

“I second that,” Hoseok spoke up. “That challenge is useless.”

But I like challenges.

All this talk only intrigues me.

“May I have a little bit of background information as to what it consists of?” Knowing that there wouldn’t be an explanation if I didn’t ask, I decided to do the honors. Plus, my curiosity was eating away my ability to stay quiet. “Besides the goal being to escape the maze under a certain amount of time, what else is there to it?”

“Knew you’d be interested,” Jimin smirks.

I ignore it as Seungwan begins with an explanation:

“Basically, if you want to beat the record, you’re given a time stamp, hence the ones that are currently on the table. These are supposed to indicate the time that your turn begins, and with that, the challenge starts,” she pauses. “In past years, there’d be grouped participants that’d strive to win a certain prize that is distributed randomly. The rewards are high tier. Now, unlike the past, this year is exclusively a duo challenge, which makes it more difficult to achieve said-rewards.

“Higher difficulty means better prizes, correct?” I ask, and the others nod wordlessly.

“Exactly,” Sooyoung continues. “Obviously, once the challenge begins, you and your partner have to walk through the maze and work together to find the exit in under ten minutes and thirty-six seconds. That’s the lowest amount of time that’s ever been achieved. As you know, the goal is to beat it.”

That’s a simple understanding.

“Now, what happens if you don’t get out in under ten minutes?” I ask.

“You lose,” Jungkook snorts, and some of the guys tag along.

“Yeah, no ,” I blink at the sarcastic remark, unamused. “But, do they look for you after time’s up?”

“Precisely,” Joohyun confirms.

“Question is,” I wonder. “Is it doable? Escaping in under ten minutes seems unrealistic.”

“I’d say it’s a pretty vast maze, but it’s definitely manageable,” Jin adds. “The records are beaten every year that it’s held.”

“Interesting.”

“The only aspect that s with your mind is how dark it is,” Chaeyoung reasons. The majority of the group agrees. It seems like that’s the worst part about it. “There’s not much light but some dimly lit lanterns or light poles at every end of a path, obviously there to guide you or else you’d lose your mind.”

“I see,” I arch a brow. “Do random dudes in costumes pop out at you?”

“No, and many are thankful for it. The darkness alone is frightening enough,” Bogum chuckles. “Are you interested in doing it?”

“Only if you guys are,” I smile a little, then twist towards Joohyun. “Do you still want to be my partner?”

“Always.”

Challenge accepted.

A/N: Hello, all! I've returned after a few months of me being the busiest! I know I say this a lot, but it's been pretty difficult for me to write these days. There's been new developments in my life, along with the fall term of classes that's been obstructing my ability to update. I just want to say that I apologize for these lengthy delays. Obviously, writing a lot of words makes the delays worse, so I'm trying my best to shorten and publish chapters, as you can tell with this one!

Also, there's a third continuation to the night, and this final chapter is going to be a lot longer. Initially, I wanted this chapter to be the conclusion, combining everything of the night, but it was actually too much. With everything that I've written so far, it would've reached 16k words (predictably). I didn't want that, especially when I still had to update and that its been so long since I have. So, here it is; the second part of three.

Just so you know, the third and last segment of this night will be updated WAY sooner as I've already written a huge bulk of it. You'll see faster updates; this is a promise!

Furthermore, I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading, if you're still here. Love you guys.